Beautifully Broken
by Bri-chan
Summary: When Riku's Replica secretly returns one night to Naminé, everything changes. [NaminéRepliku, NaminéRiku]


He had disappeared for awhile, long enough to make everyone assume he was dead.

Even though she didn't have a heart to grieve with, she still had felt something, something similar to it whenever her thoughts drifted towards him. As unpleasant as the feeling was, it gave her hope – completely illogical hope, but she didn't care – so a part of her was pleased, at the same time.

She had grown used to the emotions. So it was a huge surprise for her to see him return.

It had been late, past her bedtime. (Yes, she might not have a heart, but she has a body and bodies need sleep). She couldn't sleep that night, for the emptiness she felt had become overwhelming that night. She had walked outside and sat down on the white marble steps. She had surveyed the familiar scenery calmly. It was beautiful, she knew, but what she always found more fascinating were the stars above, so her eyes locked on the heavens. She read about constellations a week before, so she invested herself into identifying constellations, to keep her mind off that gnawing emptiness.

She was so entranced that she didn't notice the tell-tale signs of an approaching creature: footsteps, cracks of leaves, heavy breathing. If it had been a Heartless, if she had been human, she would've been dead quickly. It took the urgent, desperate whisper in a familiar voice – "Naminé!" – for her attention to be diverted. She whipped her head to face the intruder, and against her will, she gasped.

It was Riku. No, not the Riku she had been getting to know over the last few weeks – this was his replica.

There was a long moment between them, filled with silence, of them just staring into each other's eyes. She had not corrected his memory, and it showed in his eyes, every nuance of his face – they all screamed of his love for her. It scared her, terrified her, because what did she know of love?

He moved closer, and she stood up to meet him. He pulled her tightly in his embrace, his face pressed against her neck. After a pause, she slipped her arms around him and returned the hug.

If she focused, she could feel a slight moisture there, where his face met her skin. She didn't think about it though. She wouldn't let herself.

* * *

It became a routine. Every night she would slip out the mansion and meet him outside. They would talk a little, but mostly he would hold her, and she'd let herself be held, since it seemed to make him happy.

Happy. She couldn't say she felt happy with him, but she felt something, and it was close to it. It felt like happiness was just out of her reach, like someone was just dangling it in front of her, only to pull it away when she reached for it.

Yet, they understood each other. She was just half of another person; he was a copy of another person. The other Riku was not to be mentioned around him. He still hated him, with a fury that Naminé couldn't understand. She obliged him, because if she couldn't be happy, then he should be.

Many nights, hugs were not enough for him. He wanted more from her, more than she knew she could give, but when he kissed her she kissed back, always slowly and gently at first, letting her passion – her façade of passion – rise with his.

Then there would be hands, everywhere. He loved touching her, stroking her. Her skin was sensitive, so those gasps and moans that poured out of her were all real, especially when his fingers were concentrated on rubbing her nipples, first through her thin dress, and then when she had taken it off. Sometimes it was his tongue instead, and that felt even better.

She tried to reciprocate, on the nights where she felt wisps of guilt, but he wasn't too interested in that. He would instead gently push her down to lie on his soft blanket, and every time he would ask if it was okay, and she would always nod, say yes, and then he would take his time to enter her. He was fixated on this act, believing that it would make them one, make them whole.

It was a beautiful thought, becoming whole, but Naminé knew there was only one way she could have that. It would only serve to make her emptiness more pronounced, yet every time she saw his sated, pleased smile afterwards, she knew it was worth it.

* * *

When she wasn't with him, she was with the other Riku. She spent her days at Sora's side, working hard on fixing his memories, and Riku would almost always be sitting next to her. Riku loved him; it was palpable in the air. He would stare at Sora, his eyes filled with equal parts sorrow and longing.

But a person could only put up with that, their own feelings, for so long. His attention turned to the blonde, and on her breaks they would talk. They got along very well. Since she knew Sora's memories, she knew almost everything about Riku already, but that didn't bore her at all; in fact, she was often curious about his side of the story, and he would gladly tell her.

Their conversations were always pleasant, though sometimes Riku became wistful, and there would be a long pause before he could cheer himself up again. Other than that, she enjoyed it immensely – or, she would have if she had a heart; as it was, the fact that she actually enjoyed it was immense enough. Unlike his replica, he had memories and feelings that she didn't implant into him, which made him more interesting to talk to. When she was with him, she didn't feel the remnants of guilt that she did with his replica, and it was a nice reprieve.

Slowly, she would look into Riku's eyes and see a gleam of affection, infatuation, for her. She didn't know what to do about it. So instead she continued her nightly liaisons with his replica, while wondering if Riku would ever act on those feelings.

* * *

It didn't take long.

This was a harder day for him, she could tell. The despair was more pronounced in his eyes every time they swept over Sora's still body.

She felt the phantom urge to comfort him. "Riku," she began, then stopped. How could she comfort him?

The sound of his name was enough to draw Riku's attention away from Sora's frozen form, and his eyes lit up when they landed on her. He smiled warmly, with a slight touch of hysteria. "I love you," he said.

No, you don't, Naminé wanted to say. You love Sora. Instead she simply nodded. Riku took a step forward, hesitantly, and when she didn't step away, he took that as his cue to kiss her. It felt remarkably like she was kissing his replica, which was no surprise. There was a familiar desperation in his embrace, and it was enough to let her sink into it.

Flash to ten minutes later. They're sitting on Naminé's bed now, still kissing, with Riku's hands exploring her body as if she were unchartered land. His hands slipped lower, lower, until they reached the area between her legs, and her breath hitched. "Can I--?" he breathed. She nodded her consent. He pushed her gently down onto the bed, and pulled her panties down, and off. He fumbled with the front of his pants.

Looking up at him, Naminé realized with a start that this was almost exactly how it was like with his replica. Naminé needed it to be different, separate, because they were two different people, so she said, "Wait." Riku let his pants drop and then stopped expectantly. "I want to be on top."

He looked surprised at the words, probably because he didn't expect such a demure, docile girl to be able to speak that way, but he complied. He threw his pants to the floor and laid down on his back. She slowly lowered herself onto him, and he gasped from pleasure. They started moving together, drawing a cacophony of moans from his lips.

Suddenly, the door opened, and there was the other Riku. His stunned, broken gasp made them pause. Naminé looked over her shoulder at him, and his face was filled with heartbreak and rage. Now that he was here, Naminé wanted to see just how far their similarities ran. "Join us," she said, shocking them both. "Please."

A myriad of emotions broke out on his face, but in the end, his love for her dominated and he stepped inside, closing the door. She flattened herself against Riku, making her ass rise in the air, an invitation. "Please," she said again, sensing his hesitation. Below her, Riku wanted to protest, but she silenced him with a kiss. She heard a zipper unzip, and clothes fall to the floor, which made her smile. She broke the kiss and addressed the replica again. "There's lotion, on the desk."

Very soon after, there was a slick hard penis pressing against her entrance, and she forced herself to relax as he entered her with the greatest of care. Still, the pain seared, and she winced. Riku caught the look and was furious. "You're hurting her!" That stopped him immediately.

She shook her head. "No, please continue," and he did, even gentler than before. She distracted herself from the pain by kissing Riku. Absently, she wondered why she was inflicting this on both of them – if she had a heart, if she could love, she would love them both. But she felt her curiosity overriding any concern, and once the replica was fully inside her, she began to move.

They moved along with her, and soon they built up a rhythm, and Naminé thought that she could hear a melody in their moans. She felt her own pleasure building as her clit rubbed against Riku's stomach. She realized, rather quickly, that there was little difference between them, at least here and now, as they thrust into her. She felt so, so full, and at the height of her ecstasy, she thought that this was what it was like to be complete.

* * *

Later, she knew that what she had done had broken both their hearts. Riku dedicated himself fully to Sora afterwards, and once he had changed into Ansem there was no affection left for her. After that day, she had never seen his replica again.

She felt the faded pangs of guilt and remorse, but it was never real, or fully formed. If she met Kairi, and rejoined her, then those feelings would become real. This is what she dedicated herself to doing.

It was the most she could do for those two beautiful, broken boys.


End file.
